


Fated

by silver_etoile



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Secret Relationship, Sort Of, background canon, background season 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 17:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: Despite everything going on around them, Elia and Filippo are finding their way together and making it through the drama of the year.





	1. I don’t think Elia is interested in Silvia

**Author's Note:**

> A compilation of drabbles that come together to form the background elippo of season 3 (aka what we're not seeing but we all know is happening).
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://azozzoni.tumblr.com).

Eleonora shut the front door behind her, shrugging off her jacket and sighing into the empty living room. Seeing Edoardo that morning had left her drained, having to listen to Silvia’s constant commentary of how he was a wounded puppy who just needed some love to turn him around.

No matter what Ele did, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get Silvia to move on. Maybe there was still a way to get her and Elia together, she thought as she headed for the kitchen, leaving her bag on a chair and pulling out a bottle of juice.

Maybe she and Eva could somehow get them to the same party, at least get them to talk. Pouring the juice, she frowned at Filippo’s coat slung across the back of the couch, his shoes in a pile by the door. There was yet another pile of dishes in the sink, dirty pans and utensils she sighed at.

“Filo!” she called, turning towards his door, but it was conspicuously closed--odd for three in the afternoon. Maybe she would follow through on her hot coffee threat from the other day, whether he liked it or not.

Setting down her glass, she marched to his door, knocking once, sharply, before she pushed it open.

“Filo, are you ever going to—”

She cut herself off at the sight of Filo scrambling to cover himself, another guy with dark hair kneeling on the floor, cursing as Filo yanked up his jeans, turned away from her, and Ele only froze for a second before jerking to her senses and shutting the door.

Leaning against the wall, she pressed a hand to her forehead. She really hadn’t needed to see her own brother totally naked, even if the other guy had been blocking the worst parts. She paused. There had been something really familiar about the back of that guy’s head.

She jumped as the door opened beside her and Filippo appeared, pulling a shirt on.

“Weren’t you just preaching the virtues of knocking?” he asked, the door only open a sliver, and Ele frowned.

“I didn’t realize there’d be an orgy in your bedroom.”

“One guy is hardly an orgy,” Filippo said, tapping her nose, and she swatted him away.

“I just wanted to know if you ever planned on cleaning up the mess in the kitchen?” she asked finally, not craning to look behind him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know who was in there.

“Yeah, yeah,” Filippo said dismissively, waving her down the hall. “I’ll get to it. Don’t be so uptight, Ele.”

Eleonora merely glared as he shut the door in her face. She started to turn, but what came through the door made her stop.

“Did she see?”

She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but even the voice sounded familiar, and she stepped closer, ear to the crack in the door.

“Relax, Eli,” Filippo said. “She’s not coming back. No one’s going to know you like dick. Well, my dick.”

Eli, Eleonora thought. Elia? No, it couldn’t be. Elia was as straight as they came, always talking about girls in terrible terms, hitting on every pretty girl at a party. Filippo hadn’t hesitated the other day when she’d asked him to talk up Elia for Silvia’s sake. She’d thought he’d gone a bit too far at the time, but maybe he hadn’t been lying. It was just like Filo to do something like this for his own amusement, knowing full well that Silvia didn’t have a chance with him.

“You’re an asshole, Filo,” Elia said, and yes, it was definitely his voice. “And who said I liked your dick?”

“You just had it in your mouth so… You gonna finish what you started?”

That was enough for Eleonora, and she turned from the door, putting a good distance between herself and Filippo’s bedroom, turning on the TV in the living room to drown out any other noises she might hear. She wasn’t watching TV, though, thinking about everything. Pulling out her phone, she brought up Eva’s messages.

 _I don’t think Elia is interested in Silvia_ , she wrote, setting it aside with a sigh. They’d have to break the news to Gio and Nico, but she’d keep Filippo’s name out of it for now and how exactly she knew that. That was up to Elia.

Groaning, she collapsed back into the sofa and frowned at the laughter coming from Filo’s bedroom. It looked like where Filippo was moving forward, she was back to square one.


	2. Were you just checking out Elia?

Ele wasn’t going to say anything. Not when Filippo brought up Silvia and how things were going with Elia, not even when Elia showed up and she caught Filippo watching him. To Elia’s credit, he determinedly didn’t glance over at Filippo, though Ele suspected he wanted to.

She hadn’t said a thing about the other day, about walking in on them in Filo’s bedroom. Filippo had completely ignored the subject later, over dinner, after she’d shut herself in her room so he could “sneak” Elia out. He wasn’t nearly as clever as he thought he was.

She had meant to say something to the boys, to Nico and Gio about how Elia clearly wasn’t interested in Silvia, but the past couple days had been a blur. Between Edoardo and Silvia, Elia was the last person she cared about.

When Elia and Luca left, though, she knew she couldn’t be the only one who watched the way Filo’s eyes followed them, and she looked away as Nico exchanged a glance with Martino, head tilting to the side.

“Were you just checking out Elia?” he asked, a bemused smile on his face. He glanced around the table as if to check that anyone else had noticed. Eleonora looked away, to Eva, who seemed confused.

Filippo’s head snapped back to the table. “Please,” he scoffed. “He’s not even cute.”

“You said you’d fuck him the other day,” Eva said, and Eleonora determinedly didn’t react, watching Filippo jerk his head.

Martino’s eyes widened. “What?” he asked, sounding torn between disgusted and aghast.

“I was only trying to help Silvia,” he said, and Ele shook her head. He was a pretty good liar, she had to give him that. “He’s not exactly my type.”

“And he’s straight,” Martino added, and Eleonora caught the way Filippo’s eyes flicked to him for a second.

So no one knew. Not just about whatever Filo and Elia were doing but even the fact that Elia liked guys. She had suspected as much, but Martino confirmed it.

“Exactly,” Filippo agreed, to Ele’s surprise. “So why would I check him out?”

“Well, you are still a guy,” Eva said with a shrug, and Filippo laughed. Eleonora let out a breath as the moment passed. She didn’t need to deal with Filippo’s problems as well as her own. It was just another secret she had to keep.

“I’ll take your stereotypical generalization as a compliment,” he said graciously. “And you’re right. He’s got a nice ass.”

“Filo!” Ele groaned and Martino grimaced beside her while Nico laughed across the table. She didn’t know why she bothered trying to help. From now on, she was going to stay out of whatever was going on between Filo and Elia and let them sort things out on their own.


	3. Who knew you had such a discerning palate

“What is this shit?”

Filippo looked up from his stereo, scandalized that someone would even say such a thing, especially when it was Elia, who lounged on his bed, leaning back on his arms and waiting for an explanation of the music coming out of the stereo.

“And why do you still own CDs?”

“Some things are better blasting through a sound system than through tiny speakers on your phone, grasshopper,” Filo replied, turning up the volume as Fabri Fibra’s voice blasted into the room. “And how could you not know this song? It’s a classic.”

“Classically old,” Elia replied, sliding forward on the bed so his feet slid to the floor and he gazed up at Filippo. “I was, like, eight when it came out.”

“Are you trying to remind me how old I am?” Filippo asked, grabbing Elia’s hand and pulling him up, off the bed, bouncing to the music. Elia looked less enthused, and Filippo wasn’t sure why. He’d seemed totally into coming over earlier, had practically jumped him at the door, hurriedly asked if Eleonora was home before kissing him enthusiastically.

But that had been an hour ago, before Ele had come stomping home and they’d had to shut themselves in the bedroom. Not that Filippo was complaining. He liked having Elia in his room, even when he was like this, unimpressed at his choice of music.

“Filo!” Eleonora’s voice cut through the sound, barely. “Could you turn it down? I’m on the phone.”

“Okay!” he shouted back, twisting the volume knob and rolling his eyes at Elia.

“I’m not the only one who’s not a fan,” Elia said, and Filippo scoffed, wrapping a hand around the back of Elia’s neck.

“Ele doesn’t count. She has terrible taste in music,” he said dismissively, forcing Elia to sway with him to the beat. Elia seemed to sigh, leaning into him, eyes on Filippo’s lips. “You just have to give it a shot.”

Elia wrinkled his nose, skeptical, as Filippo moved back, twisting the volume knob back up.

“ _Tranne te! Tranne te!_ ” Filippo sang at the top of his lungs, pulling Elia along with him as he danced to the music, catching the way Elia smiled.

“Fuck, you are…” Elia said as Filippo laughed, hands on Elia’s waist, forcing him to dance.

“An amazing singer?” Filippo asked, forcing Elia to do a spin. “Beautiful? Charismatic?”

“A dork,” Elia finished, but Filippo caught the smile at the corner of his lips, the one he was fighting back as Filippo let go of him and jumped around to the music, letting the beat fill his whole body.

“ _C'è una festa siamo in centotre, tremila e trentatre, tranne te!_ ” he sang. He loved this song, no matter what Elia said.

Elia watched him dance, shaking his head to himself, hiding his smile as Filippo bounced back to him, sliding his arms over Elia’s shoulders.

“I see you smiling,” Filippo said easily, grinning at Elia. It wasn’t clear what was going on with him and Elia, but he was having fun at the moment, the secret rendez-vous they couldn’t tell their friends about. It was too early to think about where this was going. After all, Elia had barely admitted he liked Filo’s dick the other day. After Ele had nearly caught them red-handed.

“It’s a grimace,” Elia replied. “Disgust that you can like this terrible song.”

“Who knew you had such a discerning palate,” Filippo said, kissing Elia before Elia could argue with him, and Elia fell into it, a noise of disappointment following when Filippo pulled away too soon. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring you to my side of things soon enough.”

Elia smiled for real this time as Filippo kissed him, short pecks in between song lyrics, laughing against his mouth when Elia grabbed his head to keep him there for longer than a peck. Elia would come around to see things his way, at least on this song, he was sure.


	4. I’m eighteen. And I’m very drunk.

Elia was drunk. Good and pleasantly and loosely drunk. And he felt amazing.

He felt amazing even after the boys set him on the bus to head home after the party, but he didn’t get off at his stop. He felt good as he staggered down the sidewalk to a now-familiar building and rang the buzzer.

“Yes?” answered the voice through the speaker and Elia smiled as he leaned up against the gate. 

“Let me in,” he said, slurring his words a little and staring at the stairs beyond the gate. 

“Are you drunk?”

“Yes,” Elia answered, seeing no point in lying, and he grinned at the speaker box. “I want to see you.”

The voice didn’t reply but the door buzzed a moment later and Elia shoved it open gleefully. He didn’t care how much noise he made climbing the stairs to the apartment, knocking on the door and waiting. 

It opened a moment later, revealing Filippo in his boxers and a tee shirt, the most dressed-down Elia supposed he would ever see him.

“Hey,” Elia greeted him, leaning on the door frame, rocking back and forth gently as a smile spread on his face. He’d wanted this all night, wished Filippo had been at the party, but he knew why he hadn’t been.

Filippo smiled after a second, cocking a hip against the wall. “Hey,” he repeated simply.

“I’m eighteen,” Elia said, as though Filippo didn’t know. “And I’m very drunk.”

Filippo laughed, reaching for Elia’s shirt and tugging him through the door finally, into the apartment. 

With the door closed, Elia slid his arms around Filippo’s neck, stumbling into him, feeling Filippo’s warm embrace on his sides keeping him steady. He liked this, this easiness they had. 

“Did you get me a present?”

Filippo smoothed back Elia’s hair. “I didn’t know it was your birthday until this morning.”

“Oh, right,” Elia agreed. He’d forgotten. “Are you going to get me a present?”

“I don’t know what I could get you,” Filippo said, and Elia contemplated the question. 

Filippo’s body was warm against his and the living room was dark, as though Filippo hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights when he’d answered the door. It was late, Elia knew, though he didn’t know what time it was exactly. Filippo had obviously already been in bed or about to be by the way he was dressed. 

“You could fuck me,” Elia said finally, leaning into Filippo, his body hot and loose, fingers trailing over the back of Filippo’s neck. 

Filippo laughed, though, firm hands on Elia’s hips, anchoring him even as his head swam. “You’re way too drunk for that, Elì. When we do it, you’re going to remember it.”

Elia wanted to pout, to protest, but Filippo kissing him shut him up, for a second, and he forgot about the fact that he and Filo still hadn’t slept together properly—just blow jobs and handjobs since they’d started this thing. He forgot with Filippo’s hands sliding up his back to cradle his head, Filippo’s tongue sliding into his mouth, teeth tugging on his bottom lip until Elia groaned. 

“Shh,” Filippo warned him. “Eleonora’s asleep.”

Elia didn’t care about Ele. Not right now. He didn’t care if she woke up and saw them making out in the living room. He would care tomorrow but not right now. Right now, it was still his birthday.

“Can I stay here tonight?” he asked, whispering the words against Filippo’s lips, feeling the tingle as Filippo’s hands slid back down to his waist. His dad would kill him if he came back this late, and this wasted. He could try to sneak it, but at this rate, he didn’t think he’d be very good at it. 

He’d never asked Filippo before, would not have asked if he’d been sober, but he wasn’t sober, and there was a tiny, amused smile at Filippo’s lips. 

“Because it’s your birthday,” Filippo said at length, “Okay.”

Grinning, Elia grabbed Filippo’s hand as he headed for the bedroom, following him eagerly. 

“Come here,” Filippo instructed Elia, reaching for the button on his jeans and helping him undress. Elia didn’t need help, even if he did lose his balance getting out of them. Peeling off his jacket, he left it on the floor and crawled into bed beside Filippo. 

This was new, he thought, a sudden tiredness washing over him as Filippo tugged up the sheets and settled in next to him. The bed smelled like Filippo, the pillow soft and fluffy as Elia lay his head down, vision swimming for a second at the change of position.

His eyes drifted closed despite himself and he only opened them as he felt Filippo’s fingers brushing his hair from his face. 

“Happy birthday, Elia,” he said gently as Elia gazed at him through the moonlight. 

Smiling, Elia scooted closer. He wasn’t sure if he’d regret this tomorrow or if Filippo would write it off as him being drunk, but he wasn’t going to waste it, their first night together, so he curled in close, head resting on the pillow with Filippo’s and stealing a kiss in the darkness.

“It is a happy birthday,” he murmured, and he fell asleep not long after to Filippo’s smile and fingers carding gently through his hair.


	5. I don’t want to fucking talk about Silvia anymore

Martino hadn’t exactly been sure of this idea from the start, but with Nico whispering in his ear, and Gio waving his hands at him, he supposed there wasn’t much to lose from attempting to convince Elia to date Silvia. At the very least, he’d get to see a train wreck before his very eyes.

“This is the house you’re trying to live in?” Elia asked as the boys settled in Martino’s living room. Elia made a face at the picture Nico showed him, and Martino had to admit it wasn’t much to look at at the moment, with dust covering every surface and flowery curtains over the windows.

“Bro, if you ever actually find someone, you’ll want to live with them in a shitty old-lady apartment too.”

Nico rolled his eyes at Martino, climbing on the chair with him, squishing in beside him. “It’s not shitty. It just needs to be redecorated.”

Elia snorted at Martino, taking a swig of his beer and relaxing back on the couch. “Why would I ever want to settle down with someone anyway?”

Martino glanced at Nico. This was his chance. Eva’s voice nagged at the back of his mind, and he did wonder briefly why she cared so much about this.

“Sex for one,” Nico said from beside Martino, and Martino shot him a look while Gio and Luca laughed. “Also knowing someone loves you.”

Elia rolled his eyes as though he couldn’t care less about that. “I just want to hook up. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Martino replied, elbowing Nico. “You know who’s gotten a lot prettier lately is Silvia.”

Luca perked up at the mention of her name while Elia raised skeptical eyebrow. 

“She never stops talking.”

“Come on,” Martino said, pulling out his phone and opening Instagram. He had to search for Silvia’s account since it wasn’t as if he actually followed her. “She’s pretty.”

He shoved the phone in Elia’s face, and Luca took it, scrolling through the pictures as Elia barely glanced at it. Martino didn’t get it. Elia was down to sleep with almost any girl who showed any interest, or at least make out with them, but for some reason, Silvia was the one he cared nothing about. Of course, he’d spent the last couple parties getting drunk off his ass and not making out with anyone.

“I mean, she’s blonde,” Elia said with a shrug.

Nico leaned forward, pulling the phone from Luca’s hand and picking out a photo of Silvia. “I think she’s hot. Dark eyes, blonde hair. How picky are you, Eli?”

Elia shrugged again, tapping his fingers against his bottle, and Martino frowned. He seemed even less interested in this conversation than Martino was. Martino was doing it for Eva, though, for Nico and his unbridled enthusiasm that all their friends should be as happy as they were.

“Since when do you have standards at all?” Gio asked and Elia took another drink.

“Fuck you,” he said easily but he didn’t argue with Gio.

“I think she’s beautiful,” Luca said, but no one paid any attention, and Martino exchanged another glance with Nico.

Elia didn’t seem into it at all, and he wasn’t sure there was anything they could do aside from getting Elia so drunk he couldn’t walk and shoving them together. Not that that would work either, and Martino didn’t like the idea in the least.

“You’re saying if Silvia wanted to hook up with you, you wouldn’t say yes?” Nico asked, and Elia made a face around his beer.

“I don’t know.” He glanced up, and Martino saw him realize everyone’s eyes were on him. “Sure, maybe,” he said a second later. “I don’t want to fucking talk about Silvia anymore. What are we doing tomorrow, huh?”

Sitting back, Martino didn’t sigh. Something wasn’t quite right, but he didn’t know what. Maybe it was Silvia, or maybe it was something else. He’d just have to wait and see.


	6. I just keep thinking about Ele

“You’re back late,” Filippo said, looking up from where he was lounging on the couch as Eleonora shut the front door behind him.

“And you’re here,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor and crossing the living room without looking at him. Filippo followed her path, the strain in her shoulders.

“Bad night, my little bird?” he asked, watching her tuck her hair back almost roughly.

“I’m fine,” she replied, yanking open the fridge and sighing at its contents.

Filippo was pretty sure there wasn’t any food in there. He’d been living off coffee and biscuits for the past few days.

“Why do you never go shopping?” she asked, shutting the door, and Filippo could hear the rattle from where he sat.

He knew Eleonora could be moody. He’d grown up with her after all, but this seemed worse than normal as she stalked to the cupboard instead.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” he said, watching her bite her lip. “It’s not a big deal, Ele.”

“Tomorrow’s not the point,” she said, turning to him. “The point is I’m the only one who ever does anything around here. How did you even survive when I was in England?”

Frowning, Filippo wasn’t sure what had triggered this, and he slid his feet to the floor, leaning forward on his knees. “You’re not my mother, Ele. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”

“You’re right,” she said, shaking her head as she stepped out of the kitchen. “I’m not your mother. I’ve just always had to be.”

“Wait,” Filippo said as she disappeared into her room, but he didn’t go after her.

Sitting on the couch, he couldn’t fathom what had just happened. They had their squabbles, like every siblings did. Usually over the TV or whose turn it was to clean the toilet, but Filippo knew they weren’t like other siblings too. Other siblings didn’t live alone most of their lives.

His phone vibrated with a text as he stared at Eleonora’s door, trying to figure out if it was worth it to force her to tell him what was wrong this time.

_Is the coast clear?_

Elia’s message popped up on his screen and Filippo almost sighed. Elia was probably already downstairs after slipping away from his friends. It wasn’t that Filippo didn’t want to see him, but he was distracted now even as he typed in his reply and Elia knocked on the door five minutes later.

“Hey,” Elia greeted him, a bright smile on his face as Filippo let him in. “Is Ele home yet?”

Filippo glanced at Eleonora’s closed door. “Yeah,” he said, and Elia glanced at him. He didn’t want to talk about it, so he grabbed Elia’s wrist, tugging him through the living room and into his room where he crowded Elia up against the wall, catching Elia’s laugh.

“Marti tried to set me up with Silvia again today,” Elia said in between kisses, wrapping his arms around Filippo’s neck.

Filippo didn’t care about Silvia or whatever weird plot Martino had hatched to get them together. He couldn’t help thinking about Eleonora, the way she’d shut her door tightly behind her, her accusation that he did nothing around the house.

Hauling Elia closer, he told himself to stop thinking about it. Dwelling on those kinds of things just made him feel bad, memories of childhood surfacing—coming home to empty apartments, him ignoring Ele in favor of going out with friends, deciding it didn’t matter what he did since his parents wouldn’t be there to see. Where he had gone out, Ele had pulled in.

Elia’s hands were in his hair, and Elia hummed against his lips, breaking the kiss to exhale slowly. Filippo should have been concentrating on him, on the warmth of Elia’s body pressed against his, chest to chest, but he couldn’t.

“What?” Elia asked when Filippo broke away, eyes flickering over his face, questioning as Filippo moved back from him, sinking down on the edge of the bed instead. “What’s wrong?”

Filippo didn’t know what to say, how to explain the guilt gnawing at him as Elia sat down next to him, thigh pressed to his. It had nothing to do with Elia and everything to do with Ele tonight.

“It’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head and turning to Elia, pulling him closer by the back of his neck, and Elia didn’t resist, kissing him easily. If he thought about it too much, the guilt would eat him alive.

He knew he wasn’t the best brother. He was supposed to be taking care of Eleonora, not the other way around. He was older. He was supposed to be more mature, though it never felt like it.

“You’re distracted,” Elia murmured a minute later when Filippo lowered him onto his back on the mattress. “I don’t want you distracted.” Elia bit down on Filippo’s lower lip, and even though Filippo wanted to be into this, into Elia in his bed, he couldn’t. Not right now.

“I just keep thinking about Ele,” he admitted, and Elia paused, shifting away from Filippo to shoot him an unimpressed look. 

“If you’re thinking about your sister right now, we have a much bigger problem.”

Rolling off Elia, Filippo sighed at the ceiling. “Something’s been going on with her lately, and I’ve been a shitty brother to her.”

“Isn’t that what brothers are supposed to do?”

Filippo knew it was something with Edoardo, but he didn’t know what. She barely admitted to liking him in the first place, and if he pushed, she’d just get annoyed.

“Not just lately,” Filippo said slowly. “I’ve always done my own thing and left her to fend for herself.”

He felt Elia shift next to him, pushing himself up so he could look down at Filippo next to him. He wasn’t sure why he was telling Elia. After all, they didn’t know each other that well. Whatever they were doing was fun, but it wasn’t serious. Not like that.

“It’s not your job to protect her,” Elia said simply. “That’s what your parents are for.”

“My parents aren’t around,” Filippo replied. “They really haven’t been for a long time, and instead of stepping up, I just did whatever I wanted.”

There had been plenty of times he could have stepped up, done things better or different, made life easier for Eleonora, but he’d been too busy partying or drinking or sleeping with strangers.

“I’m sure you did what you could,” Elia said, and Filippo shook his head.

“I didn’t,” he said, and it was the truth. “In fact, I probably owe a lot to Ele. She’s always been there for me, but where was I?”

Elia didn’t reply, and Filippo knew he didn’t have an answer.

“Shit,” Filippo cursed, sitting up finally, and Elia followed. “I have to go talk to her.”

“Okay,” Elia said, watching Filippo stand up. “Should I go?”

Pausing, Filippo glanced back at him sitting on the bed, and he smiled slightly. “You don’t have to.”

Elia smiled in return, leaning back. “Okay.”

Filippo wasn’t thinking about Elia waiting for him, though, as he left the bedroom and headed for Eleonora’s on the other side of the apartment.

Knocking quietly on the door, he pushed it open slowly. “Ele?”

The lamp in the corner was on, casting a yellow glow over the room as he opened the door carefully.

“What do you want?” she asked, looking up from where she was curled on her bed with a book.

“I think I need to apologize,” he said, stepping inside, and she frowned as he sat down on the foot of her bed.

“It’s fine, Filo,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We’ll just go shopping tomorrow.”

“Not about that.” He dismissed her easily, and she gave him a skeptical look as he scooted onto the mattress. “You are like a mom, Ele, more than our own mother ever was. And I should have done more, helped more, been a little more responsible.”

Eleonora sighed at him. “Filo, it’s not your responsibility to take care of me.”

“And it’s not yours to take care of me.”

Tucking her hair back, she shook her head. “We did what we had to do growing up. You did what you could for me. You’ve always at least been someone I could talk to, and I appreciate that.”

“I could have done more,” he said, and they both knew it. There had been times he’d completely ignored her, too wrapped up in his own problems.

“I’m alive,” she said with a small smile. “You did the best you could. It’s not our fault our parents left us alone.”

Filippo nodded slowly. She was right, but he still felt bad. Most of the time, he ignored that feeling, pushed it down deep and used it to help him accept when his mom said she’d show up and didn’t.

“Alright,” he said, rising from the bed. “I’m getting you some cookies tomorrow.”

Eleonora smiled, shaking her head as he left, shutting her door behind him. He felt better as he returned to his room, pausing in the doorway and smiling as his eyes traveled over Elia spread out on his bed, scrolling through his phone like he owned the place. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Elia to notice him. 

“Done being distracted?” Elia asked, tucking away the phone.

“For now,” he replied, crawling on top of Elia, and not missing the way Elia’s eyes darted down his body.

“Good,” Elia agreed, and as Filippo kissed him, he couldn’t help thinking he was lucky, with both Ele and Elia in his life.


End file.
